The Case of the Meddling Attorney
Chapter 8
1
"Come on, Perry. We don't have time for this. We've got to get out of here," Paul said, trying to hurry his friend.
Mason finished taking the pictures of the records and placed them back where he found them. Nodding at Paul, they headed for the front door. Mason looked out the window and saw Lieutenant Tragg pulling up in front of the house in his car.
"We can't go out this way. Tragg is here. We'll have to go out the back. Let's go!"
Mason and Drake turned around and headed to the back of the house. When they arrived, Mason unlocked the back door, and the two men were headed out. Unfortunately, it was a deadbolt lock. They needed a key to lock the door from the outside. Mason pulled the keys out of his pocket and started trying each key in the lock.
"Forget it, Perry!" Drake said with urgency. "We don't have time. Leave it unlocked. We have to get out of here before Tragg discovers we're here."
Mason didn't want to leave the door unlocked. It was a dead giveaway to Tragg that someone had been there. Obviously, the first one he would think of would be him. Mason knew that Paul was right. Despite the fact that it was his client's place, he didn't want to be found there. So, he had no choice but to leave the door unlocked.
The two men hurried to the back of the yard and climbed the fence. They swiftly walked around the block, turned to their left where the vehicle had been parked. They got into the car and drove away.
"Perry, I swear to God one of these times you are going to get us arrested."
"It's my client's place. I have a right to be there," Mason countered.
"Yeah right. That's why we sneaked out of there like two thieves in the night. Besides, did you have permission to take documents out of that house?"
Mason grinned. "I didn't remove any documents from the premises."
"That's just a technicality, and you know it. You took pictures of all those documents."
"So did you," Mason pointed out.
"Perry, you aren't going to get away with this much longer. When Tragg finds out that that back door is unlocked, he is going to assume it was you. He is going to start combing the area looking for our vehicles before he goes in to investigate."
"There's more than one way to skin a cat, Paul. We'll start taking taxis. Then he won't be able to identify our cars."
Drake just shook his head. "I give up. However, I am warning you. I am going to ask Tragg for a separate cell."
Mason just laughed at him.
2
Conrad McMasters stopped his car in front of Baron Stover's mansion. He sat there for a moment just staring at the residence. He really didn't even know why he was here. What made him think that Stover would cooperate with him? Even if Ben had been there, he might not be willing to admit it. Conrad and Luanne were worried about Ben. He was not acting rationally.
Normally, Ben would accept the court's decision on a case. At the very least, if he didn't, he would go ahead and try to prove otherwise. This time was different. He refused to involve them in helping him. It was as if he didn't want them to know what he was up to.
Somehow Conrad had to convince him to either drop the entire thing, or at least allow him to help him. Otherwise, he was afraid he was going to get into trouble.
He kept staring at the mansion. He supposed he had put this off long enough. He turned off the engine on the car and sat there for a few moments more. Finally, he opened the car door and got out. He might as well get this over with. Conrad had a sinking feeling that Ben had been there. He had to find a way to stop him from digging the hole deeper.
Walking up to the gate, he pressed the button. A masculine voice barked over the speaker, "Yeah, what do you want?"
What a way to answer a summons. Conrad tried to put it out of his mind. Since Stover was nothing but a thug, he would have nothing but thugs working for him.
"My name is Conrad McMasters. I am here to see Mr Stover."
"You don't have an appointment. So go away and then make one. Then maybe you'll get in to see him. Somehow I doubt it."
Becoming impatient, Conrad did not give up. "Tell him I work for Ben Matlock." He wasn't sure that would work, but it was worth a try.
There was complete silence on the other end. McMasters wasn't sure whether the guy was thinking or had already cut him off. He continued to wait for what turned out to be close to two minutes. Finally, the same voice came back on the intercom.
"Mr Stover will give you exactly five minutes."
The buzzard sounded on the gate and it opened. Conrad walked through it and went up to the front door of the mansion. As he reached up to knock on the door, it opened. A rather rough looking character stood in front of him. "Who are you?" McMasters asked him.
"It doesn't matter who I am. Follow me. Remember, you have five minutes."
McMasters followed him down a long foyer. At the end of it, the man knocked on double doors made of solid cherry. Conrad figured they must have cost a fortune. Then everyone in the city of Atlanta knew that Baron Stover was a crook. The police simply had not been able to prove it yet.
"Bring him in, Roland," the voice behind the door ordered.
Roland Hubbard opened the door and motioned for Conrad to enter the room. When he walked in, it wasn't Baron Stover that he noticed. This was obviously Stover's study. The shelves were lined with books all the way to the ceiling. There were ladders around the room hooked to the shelves so that one could reach the books at the top. All of the wood was solid cherry. The desk which Stover was sitting behind was also solid cherry. So were the two chairs that sat in front of the desk. The woodworking was absolutely beautiful, and no doubt extremely expensive. Sometimes Conrad wondered why he chose the profession of a private detective. If he had been a crook, he could be living like Baron Stover. His principles and his convictions kept him from becoming a crook like Stover.
"Conrad McMasters, isn't it? You're the PI that works for Matlock," Stover said.
"That's right."
"So, tell me why you wanted to see me. As my colleague stated, you have five minutes. Then he is going to throw you out."
"I came here to ask you if Ben has been here." Conrad said.
"What makes you think I would tell you if he had?"
"Look, Stover. I am trying to get Ben to back off. I was following him today, but he ditched my tail. I need to know if he was here."
Baron Stover grinned. "You're supposed to be a top notch PI, and a little old man ditched your tail?" He and Roland Hubbard began laughing.
Conrad made every attempt to mask his feelings. This man was a thug, a crook, and a murderer. McMasters wasn't questioning Ben's opinion that the man actually did the murder. He was just as certain that he had. It wasn't easy standing there and listening to him laugh about losing Ben. Stover had no idea how resourceful Ben Matlock could be. If Stover was following him, Ben could lose his tail as well.
"If you are sufficiently amused, can you answer my question? Was Ben here?"
Stover looked over at Hubbard. With a smirk, he said, "What do you think Roland? Should we tell him or just kick him out?"
"I think we should throw him out."
"Well, I don't see any harm in telling him." Tapping a pencil on the desk, he said with a smirk, "Yeah, the slimy little weasel was here. By the way, you should convince him to retire. He is way past his prime. For what he charges, he should never lose. I should have brought in Perry Mason from California. Then I wouldn't have had to go through the second trial."
"What did he want from you?" Conrad asked.
"He accused me of murder. You can tell the son-of-a-bitch that I am going to sue him for slander. If he comes around here again, I'm going to call the police. Tell him to let it go. This is the only warning he's going to get."
"This is the only warning you are going to get," Conrad said. "If you lay one hand on him . . ."
Interrupting McMasters, Stover laughed and said, "You are in no position to threaten me, so don't bother. Just relay my message to your boss. Tell him it is in his best interest to drop it. Otherwise, he's going to find himself in a boat load of trouble. Now get out of here, McMasters."
Roland Hubbard grabbed Conrad by the shoulder. The young private investigator shook him off. "Keep your hands off of me."
As Hubbard reached for him again, Stover stopped him. "Easy, Roland, just make sure he leaves."
"All right, Baron. Personally, McMasters, you're lucky. I can't stand guys like you. You and your high and mighty attitudes. I would have beaten the crap out of you. You're lucky Baron won't let me. Now, let's go."
"Anytime you want to try, just let me know," Conrad said.
Hubbard pulled a gun out of his holster and pointed toward the door. "I would suggest you move."
McMasters headed for the door. He couldn't resist. He looked back at Hubbard and said, "Do you have a permit for that gun?"
"You're pushing it, McMasters. Keep it up, and I will forget Baron said to leave you alone. Move!"
Conrad was led to the front door. He figured that is where Hubbard would stop, but he didn't. He led him all the way to the gate. Opening the gate Hubbard grabbed McMasters and shoved him out.
"Oops! I forgot," he said, "I'm not supposed to touch you." He smirked at McMasters, then turned and went back into the mansion laughing.
Conrad was concerned about what Ben had gotten himself into. Stover was dangerous. No doubt, he had killed once. He wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Conrad had to find Ben and do it in a hurry.
3
Robert Ironside and Ed Brown arrived back at police headquarters. Ed got out of the van as Ironside wheeled his chair into the lift and pressed the button. Brown met him on the other side. Stepping behind his boss, he began wheeling him toward the elevator. Despite the fact that Ed was pushing him, Ironside still turned the wheels on his chair. They rolled the elevator up to the top floor, turn left and went into the office. Eve was there to greet them.
"Chief, the ladies are given the guards at the jail quite a time," she told him.
Ironside had forgotten all about the Tuesday Afternoon Bridge Club. He supposed he was going to have to deal with them sooner or later. They couldn't be kept locked in that cell forever. He would have another stern talk with them and try to impress upon them how important it was to tell him where Victoria had gone.
"Eve, have you had any luck in locating which city my aunt went to?"
Whitfield looked up from her computer. She shook her head. "Sorry, Chief. So far, we've had no luck at all. The first two cities were a complete bust. I'm going to start checking Atlanta."
"Keep on it. Let me know as soon as you know which flight she actually took." It dawned on the chief that they should be able to find out from the airlines which flight she took. He had already started wheeling his chair toward the ramp when he stopped and turned around. "Eve, the airlines ought to be able to tell you . . ."
"I thought of that, Chief. The problem is someone used a ticket in Victoria's name on all three airline flights. I figured two out of the three would be no shows. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case."
"How in blazes did that get past airport personnel? They are supposed to ask for identification."
"I have no idea. All I know is all three flights were used."
Ironside turned his chair back toward the ramp. "Just find out where in the hell she is. Call me as soon as you get confirmation."
"Yes, sir."
Ironside wheeled out of the office and took the elevator down to the floor that contained the jail. As he wheeled in, he was met by Norm who stood up. It was obvious that he was elated to see Ironside.
"Chief, you got to get these women out of here. They are driving me crazy."
"Take them to the nearest holding room. I'm going to release them, but I'm going to have a talk with them first."
The relief showed on Norm's face. He would be more than happy to be rid of them. He picked up the key and disappeared into the jail. Ironside headed for the nearest holding room, opened the door and went in. He waited for Norm to bring the women in.
The door to the holding room opened, and the three women were brought inside. "Sit down ladies," Ironside said sternly.
Gladys, Bessie, and Agnes sat down on the opposite side of the table. They all begin speaking at once. Ironside couldn't even make out what they were saying.
"Quiet!" The detective shouted. "You are going to sit there and you are not going to say a word. You are going to listen to what I have to say."
"Captain Ironside, you can't keep us here." Gladys complained.
"There you go again," Bessie said. "He's a chief, not a captain."
"You said he was a captain," Gladys said looking at her companion.
"No she didn't. She said he was a chief," Agnes intervened.
"I know what she said, and she said he was a captain."
Ironside shook his head. He should have brought a bottle of Tylenol with him. Every time he dealt with these ladies, they gave him a headache. "It's Chief Ironside," he snarled. "Now be quiet and listen."
Startled at his tone, they shrank back in their seats. None of them said anything further.
"Victoria is in trouble. She apparently took an air flight to follow Roland Hubbard. The man is a killer. He got out of jail by killing his guard. He will not hesitate to kill Victoria. I want to know where she went, and I want to know now. You are going to tell me where she went."
"We don't know where she went, Captain Ironside," Gladys said meekly.
"Chief Ironside!" Bessie, Agnes, and Ironside said at the same time. She cringed and became quiet.
"Do you want something terrible to happen to Victoria?" the detective asked them.
"Of course not," Bessie said.
"Then you need to tell me where she went. I must find her and stop her before she meets up with Hubbard. If he feels she's a threat to him, he will kill her. He may do it anyway just because she's related to me."
"Oh, that would be awful!" Gladys said. "But don't you worry. Victoria can take care of herself."
"Are you crazy? Against the killer? Didn't you hear Chief Ironside say that Hubbard escaped by killing his guard?" Bessie said.
"She has always been able to take care of herself," Gladys insisted.
"She probably won't even find him," Agnes chirped in.
"You can't be sure of that," Bessie said. Then the three of them begin talking at once arguing over whether Victoria could take care of herself.
Ironside slammed his fist down on the table. Once again it startled them into silence. "Do you want to get out of jail? Because if you don't tell me where Victoria went, you're going right back to that cell."
"Chief, I don't think anyone of us really knows where she went. We knew she was looking for Roland Hubbard. She didn't say anything about him leaving town. I for one, honestly do not know where she went" Bessie said earnestly.
The other three ladies nodded their head in agreement. Ironside accepted that they didn't know. Apparently, Victoria did not share her side trip with them. There wasn't any reason to hold them any further. "Now you listen to me. I am going to find Victoria with or without your help. Hopefully, it will be before Hubbard kills her. I am taking you at your word that you don't know where she is. But if you do, and something happens to her, you're going to have to live with that for the rest of your lives."
"Chief," Bessie said. "We honestly do not know where she went. She didn't tell us. Under the circumstances, with her life in danger, we would tell you."
"All right, you are released to go home. I don't know how many times I have told you ladies to stay out of police business. One of these times something is going to happen where I'm going to have no choice but to charge you with a crime. Then you will go to jail to stay. I suggest you give up your amateur detective status and enjoy your retirement."
All three women nodded. Not that Ironside really thought they were listening. They would be back at it as soon as Victoria found something else to investigate. "Now, get out of here and go catch a cab home."
They stood up immediately and filed out the door as fast as they could, afraid he might change his mind.
Ironside continued to sit at the table. He had been hoping they would be able to tell him where Victoria was headed. The detective read people extremely well. He knew these ladies. He was certain they were telling him the truth. Victoria apparently had not told them where she was going. So, he was back to square one. He turned his wheelchair around and headed out the door.
When he arrived back in his office, Ed and Eve approached him immediately. Looking at them, he knew they had discovered something.
"What is it? Have you found out where Victoria went?"
"Captain Smith called here on another matter. In talking to him, we found out that one of his officers had to pick his mother up at the airport. That officer ran into Victoria Ironside at the airport. Smith was going to reach him and have him report to you immediately," Eve told him.
"Who's the officer?" The chief demanded.
"Sergeant, Palmateer. Smith said he is in the building. He just had to locate him and send him up here," Ed said.
The door to the office opened and sergeant Teddy Palmateer came down the ramp. "Chief, Captain Smith said you wanted to see me."
"Sit down, Sergeant," Ironside told him. The sergeant immediately took a seat beside the detective. He had that same look of apprehension that all young detectives had when facing Robert Ironside. "Captain Smith tells me that you went to the airport to pick up your mother."
"Yes sir. She was arriving back from Italy. She took a holiday there."
"The captain also told me that you happen to run into my Aunt Victoria. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir. She was waiting for a flight out. She didn't seem very happy to see me when I came up and introduced myself. I knew she was your aunt from the times I have seen her with you. She acted very uncomfortable while talking to me."
"Yes, I can imagine she did," Ironside said. "My aunt has a bad habit of playing amateur detective. She has been trying to find Roland Hubbard ever since he and Frank Hunt tried to kill us in the Tower when the earthquake hit. I believe she has traced him to another city. I don't know how Hubbard got out of San Francisco because we have about every avenue out of the city blocked. However, I have to believe that he did, indeed, get out of the city. I also believe that my aunt is following him. I need to know where you saw her."
"Like I said, Chief, she was waiting for her flight. I saw her seated in the area where they call passengers for boarding."
"Do you remember what flight was up on the board?" Ironside asked.
"Yes sir. It was the flight to Atlanta, Georgia."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Yes, sir. I am positive. I was standing right beside it."
"Thank you, Sergeant. You've been a big help. You can go back to your duties."
"Now what?" Eve asked after the sergeant left the office
"Call the airlines. Get me a flight to Atlanta Georgia. In the meantime, you find out what hotel my aunt is staying in."
Ed stepped forward. "Chief, you can't go there alone, especially if Roland Hubbard is actually in Atlanta."
"I can go with him," Mark said.
"Do you good people realize that I survived his and Frank Hunt's attack at the Tower? I can take care of myself. Besides, the commissioner would never allow any of you to go with me. You work for the city of San Francisco."
The door opened in Commissioner Dennis Randall walked into the office. "The commissioner would not allow them to go where? Where are you going now, Bob? Lately, you seem to be leaving this city far too much. May I remind you that your job is here in San Francisco?"
"Sit down, Dennis. I'll tell you what's going on."
A very leery commissioner sat down in the chair beside Chief Ironside. "All right, I'm sitting. What's going on?"
Ironside proceeded to tell Randall about Roland Hubbard and his suspicions that his aunt had followed him to Atlanta. "I need to go to Atlanta and find her."
"Bob, you simply have to get your aunt under control. She has to understand that she is not a police officer, and she has got to stop this amateur detecting."
"Do you think I don't know that, Dennis? I have tried everything. I understand her desire to see to it that Roland Hubbard is found, arrested, tried, and sent back to prison. However, she simply would not leave it to me to see to it that it was done. She's my aunt, Dennis. I have to protect her."
Randall looked into the eyes of his top detective. He knew he was right, and he hated having him out of the city, but he also knew he would allow it. "You're not going alone. Take Ed with you. While you are there, see if you can get a handle on where Roland Hubbard is. Speak with the Atlanta police and make sure they know he is in their city, that is if he really is."
"I'm going with him," Mark said. "It is my job to assist the chief."
"Oh, all right." The commissioner rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Officer Whitfield, you stay here and run your boss' office. Bob, keep in touch with her on a daily basis. When you find your aunt, get back here to your real job. We will discuss later what we are going to do about your aunt. She can't keep this up. I don't want to have the police arrest her, but if that is the only way to stop her, then that is what is going to happen. So, I suggest you talk some sense into her." Randall got up and left the office.
"Eve, make those reservations for three."
4
Ben Matlock was more convinced than ever that Baron Stover was guilty. He couldn't be tried for the same crime, but by God, Ben was going to prove he did it. It would at least destroy him as a businessman in Atlanta. It would remove one more crook from their midst. He would at least have that satisfaction.
Everything would have to be put on hold for about an hour while he got some food. Ben was hungry and he had not eaten all day. He walked in to the nearest restaurant and sat down. It wasn't long before the waitress came over and gave him a menu.
Matlock was unaware that Roland Hubbard was sitting in a table about three feet away. Hubbard had followed him right into the restaurant and sat down. He waited until Matlock received his food. Getting up from where he had been sitting, he walked over to Matlock's table.
Ben looked up at the man. He didn't look the least bit familiar. Yet, the man was staring down at him as if he knew him. "Do I know you?" Matlock asked him.
"No, but I know you. You're the lawyer that screwed over Baron Stover. You threw his trial." Hubbard made sure that his voice was loud enough to draw the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant.
"That's a dirty rotten lie. I didn't throw the trial. The truth of the matter is I lost it because my client was guilty as hell. Baron Stover murdered Becky Morris, and if it is the last thing I do, I am going to prove that he did it. He can't be tried again for the murder, but I certainly can ruin him in the city. And by God, I will represent her family in a civil suit. I intend to destroy Baron Stover completely."
Hubbard laughed. "You're just a bit obsessed with Stover, aren't you? You're just bitter because the attorney that took over for you got him exonerated of a crime he didn't commit. You're just jealous that the attorney was smarter and better than you."
Matlock was unable to control his anger. "That attorney got a murderer off. He belongs in prison. When I get done with him, the police will be all over his records. He'll go to jail for something."
"My, my, aren't we obsessed? The great Ben Matlock is obsessed with Baron Stover. I bet you would like to see him dead."
"That's exactly what he deserves!" Matlock shouted.
The owner of the restaurant, Jesse Gonzalez arrived at Ben's table. "Gentleman, that is enough. If you don't stop, I will have both of you escorted out of here."
"That is not necessary. I'm leaving," Roland Hubbard said. He shot a smirk Matlock's way and then walked out of the restaurant.
As Hubbard left, he looked back at Matlock. He had accomplished exactly what he set out to do.
5
Perry Mason arrived at the jail. He now had all the proof he needed. His client was guilty as hell, and Mason was not about to help him get away with it. He would plea bargain with Hamilton Burger, but that was as far as he would go. Perry Mason had never helped anyone get away with murder. He had no intentions of doing so now, his reputation was at stake. One thing Mason always protected was that reputation. Pascal Bouvier had lied to him from the very beginning. If there was one thing Perry hated, it was a client who lied to him. Sometimes they lied because they were protecting someone else, sometimes they lied because they did something that would make them look bad in their lawyer's eyes, and sometimes they lied simply because they were scared. It didn't make any difference to Mason why people lied. They made his job harder when they did. The one lie he wouldn't tolerate was when a client actually committed the crime and then lied to him about it.
Mason signed in and headed for the interrogation rooms. When he arrived, there was a police officer waiting.
"Mr Mason, your client has been taken to room three. If you want to head down there right now, I can let you in," the officer told him.
"Thank you." Mason followed the officer to room three. The room was unlocked for him and he entered. Pascal Bouvier was sitting at the table. His hands were handcuffed to the rings in the middle of the table
"Hello, Mr Mason. I understand you wanted to see me."
Mason set his briefcase down in front of him. He sat down opposite of Bouvier. He wasted no time getting to the point. "You have been lying to me, Mr Bouvier."
"I'm not sure what you mean. I have been truthful in everything that I told you."
"Actually you haven't." Mason opened his briefcase and pulled out some papers. He set the papers in front of Bouvier one by one. "Do you want to explain to me why there is an overseas account in yours and your wife's name in the amount of $10 million?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Lying to me further will only hurt your case. I was able to get a copy of the signature cards. I had the signatures authenticated. They are indeed your signature and that of your wife's."
"You are supposed to be representing me."
"I take my client's word that they are not guilty of the crime they are being accused. However, I have every aspect of your life investigated in order to clear you. The Drake Detective Agency has discovered information that you failed to tell me about."
Bouvier began to show discomfort. He wondered what Mason had been nosing into. This was unexpected. How could he possibly find out anything? "I have no idea what you are talking about. I told you everything I know about what happened."
"Look at those papers, Mr Bouvier. What you failed to tell me was that your wife had several million dollars in and offshore account. What you also failed to tell me was that you started the divorce, and then stopped it; probably when you discovered she had that kind of money in an account. You had a pre-nuptial agreement that said you would receive nothing from her. That, would indeed, explain why you stopped the divorce."
"All right, I didn't tell you that I filed for divorce. It was during a very difficult time in our marriage. However, we worked it out, and I canceled the divorce. That's all there was to it."
Mason shook his head. "So, you're going to sit there and continue lying to me?"
"I'm not lying."
The lawyer slammed his fist down on the table. "Yes you are!" You reached into his briefcase and pulled out another series of papers. "These are copies of a journal that you kept in your desk. It shows some very illegal activity."
"What the hell were you doing in my desk? I didn't give you authority to go through my house."
"Quite the contrary. You gave me every authority when you hired me. Do you want to explain to me why you are dealing with drug dealers and smuggling drugs into this country? Did your wife discover it? Did she threaten to go to the police? Is that why you killed her?" Mason pulled the video out of his briefcase and slammed it on the table. "That is a video of you murdering your wife. You are being blackmailed. Someone either videotaped the murder or somehow got hold of that video tape. I have no idea who did it, and frankly I don't care. You are guilty of murder."
Pascal Bouvier sat back in the chair. A smirk appeared on his face. "If I had told you that I killed her, you wouldn't have taken the case."
"That is not necessarily true. I would have gone to the district attorney and plea bargain the case."
"I don't want you to plead the case. I want you to get me off. I am not going to jail for murder. She brought it on herself."
"No one brings murder on themselves. There are no excuses for murdering a human being. I will not plead you innocent of the charge. I will see what I can do with the district attorney, but you are going to jail for murder."
"You're forgetting, Mason. You work for me; you'll do what I tell you to do. You will plead me innocent, and then you will do your damnedest to get me out of this. That's what you're being paid for."
"I will not plead you innocent. You are guilty of the charge, and you belong in jail. I will represent you, and get the best deal I can, but that is all I will do."
"Then, Mason, you're fired. I'll get an attorney who will do what I tell him to do."
Perry Mason pulled a bill out of his briefcase and set it on the table. "I will expect that to be paid promptly for services already rendered."
Bouvier laughed. "I'm not paying you one red cent."
"There is something you don't get. Your next attorney is going to ask you if you owe me any money. If you lie to him, he is going to check anyway. No attorney will take your case unless I am paid. You see, if you refuse to pay me, they will believe that you won't pay them either. When they find out how much money you got in overseas accounts, they will know that you can afford them. However, if you don't pay me you're going to end up having a really hard time finding an attorney. You won't be able to get a court appointed attorney with the money you have. So, if you want a decent attorney, I would suggest you pay that bill and do so immediately. If you don't, I will make sure your next attorney knows that you did not pay me."
"You son-of-a-bitch! You did nothing for me! You'll get your money, Mason. When my next attorney gets me off this charge, I am going to sue you to get my money back."
"You go right ahead. It won't do you any good since if you sue me in court, I will be forced to bring out everything that I have found. You see, you will be waving your attorney-client privilege in order to sue me."
Whether or not that was true, it didn't matter. Mason didn't expect him to sue him. He could afford a good attorney. Unfortunately for him, a good attorney was going to discover exactly what Mason did.
Mason continued, "I have paid a private detective on your behalf. He has to be paid, and you owe me for the time I have spent on this case. Whether you want to pay me or not, you are going to. Your attorney is going to come to me for my records. When I tell him you will not allow me to release them, what do you think he's going to think?" Mason got up and left the room.